


Take it Off

by UnluckyAmulet



Series: The Dave Trilogy [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, Bro approves, F/M, Feelings, Mild Fluff, Reader and Dave Are Eighteen, Reader-Insert, Relationship Upgrade, Sex, Smut, Tsundere!Reader - Freeform, reader is female
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 08:57:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12908592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnluckyAmulet/pseuds/UnluckyAmulet
Summary: You just came to drop off an assignment, but that's a lie and you both know it. One way or another, it's time for you idiots to admit how you really feel.





	Take it Off

**Author's Note:**

> The final part of the Dave x Tsundere!Reader trilogy! Thanks for sticking with me so far and, as promised, here's the smut you've all been waiting for!

Things are quiet.

Too quiet.

A few weeks have passed since your showdown with Strider in the library, and the Cool Kid has remained conspicuously aloof since then. Something was wrong with this picture- since when did Dave Motherfucking Strider let somebody else have the last word on anything?

You'd seen considerably less amounts of the blonde, and much as you were loath to admit it, you kind of missed him. Annoying as he is, your day is just a little duller without him around. But you missed the smooth, slow drawl of his voice, the vague tang of Coke you could smell whenever he was near. Hell, you even missed staring at him during particularly boring lessons, despite the legion of giggling girls (and boys, sometimes) that usually trailed behind him.

Obviously, you could just _ask_ where Strider's mysteriously vanished to, but that would imply you, like, care or something. It may sound absurd, but you've managed to keep your crush on Strider on the downlow for the most part (aside from Dave himself), and you'd prefer to keep it that way, at least until you can sort out your own feelings. Plus, Dave's own behaviour towards you is something of a mystery in of itself- since that day when he managed to trick you into admitting how you felt about him, you were sure he was just toying with you. So naturally, you decided to mete out a little payback, and the results surprised you. Did Dave like you back, or was it merely his hormones going crazy? Your cynical mind edges towards the latter, but either way, you must find out for sure.

Luckily for you, opportunity strikes the next morning. You'd think the Gods were shipping you or something. Thank god you were actually paying attention during lessons for once.

"Strider?" the teacher calls out, glancing up from roll call, not because she's a huge fangirl, presumably. "Dave Strider?"

No answer- the class continues to chatter away, not paying any special attention to what's going on unless their names are specifically called. The teacher scans the room before sighing.

"This assignment needs to be complete by the end of the month. Would anybody here happen to know Dave Strider's address?"

Now a few members of the Dave Strider harem do look up, but most of them with resignation- popular as Dave is, he's always been a little cagey about where he lives. (Rumour has it that he just doesn't want his older Bro to seduce away his fanclub.) You know some of them would gladly sell all their earthly possessions for just a glimpse inside Dave’s bedroom, but you don’t think they’d be quite as prepared as they might think for the truth.

Rolling your eyes as if this simply couldn't get any more tedious, you half-heartedly lift an arm, causing the teacher’s eyes to flick to you, surprised. Normally, you don’t really talk much in class unless directly called upon to do so. You cough.

"Uh, I can pass it on to his sister."

"Ah, thank you."

No more is said on the matter- you're spared the wrath of Dave's fanclub since you're just innocently giving something to Rose, and something pretty ordinary and far too dull to gather special attention from Strider, at that. You’re not even particularly good friends with her, anyway. It’s more of an acquaintance-of-my-friend deal. These girls don't need to know that you have absolutely no intention of letting an opportunity like this pass you by. 

No way.

~

Your palms are slick with sweat as your hand squeezes the strap of your bag tightly. Your stomach clenches and unclenches in a decidedly unpleasant manner. It occurs to you as you stand there, outside Dave's apartment, your legs feeling like rubber, that your body is betraying you. For all your snarky, acerbic attitude, nerves make you want to turn around, run home and hide under your bed. Ostensibly, you’re just a delivery girl, but it’s a flimsy pretext and you know it. And you also know that once you knock on that door and Dave sees you here, he’ll know it too. You know that if you go through with this, your relationship with Strider will change, for better or for worse.

And that’s a little scary.

With a shaking hand, you reach out and knock loudly, before you can change your mind and make a mad dash for the stairs that lead you up to this floor. A lump the size of a golf ball swells in your throat and you try to swallow it down, leaning down to scratch an itch on your calf. Goddamn Strider and his stupid-

Abs.

Your mouth hangs open like a broken animatronics’ as you’re greeted by the sight of a pale, very toned torso. Dave quirks a thick eyebrow at you as you stand there, blatantly leching on him and not doing a damn thing to try and hide it.

“Didja miss me that much?” Dave drawls, clearly amused despite his typical stoic facial expression. You snap your jaw shut.

“Hardly,” you reply, almost sneering, wondering how far you can stretch plausible deniability until it snaps. Standing here on Dave Strider’s doorstep and drooling over his naked chest like a horny simpleton, you know you’re already pushing it. 

But you still dig into your bag, unzipping it and reluctantly tearing your eyes away from Dave as you rifle through the papers stashed inside. You’re glad that Dave cannot see your fingers are trembling.

“Here,” you say, slapping a small stack of papers against Dave’s chest as if they are bills instead. He takes them wordlessly, “Assignment.” You add, lamely.

Dave glances down at the papers with disinterest, and you wonder how much practice it took for him to perfectly be able to school his mouth into an almost completely straight line like that. You abruptly notice that he has a bandage wrapped around his arm. It looks like it’s new, possibly having been recently changed, and you wonder how long ago he injured himself. That explains where he’s been, sort of. Still, the silence that’s descended upon you both has lasted a little too long for your liking, so you cough pointedly.

“Well? Are you going to invite me in or not?”

The corner of Dave’s lips quirk into a tiny smirk, and he mockingly bows in an ‘after you’ gesture. You walk in, trying hard not to look nervous as you step foot into the domain of the Striders. You hear Dave come in after you, but you’re too busy taking in the room to pay it much heed. This is the first time you’ve been in Dave’s house, so you peer around with interest. You’d heard from John and Karkat it was “kind of weird”, but this is something else. It’s pretty much a typical bachelor’s pad, high on gadgets, low on making it actually look comfortable. Oh, and there are weird puppets everywhere…they’re kind of creepy, actually. How does Dave live with all these eyes staring at him? Maybe that explains why he never seems uncomfortable or nervous with people at school watching him all the time- he’s already used to being observed near-constantly anyway.

A sudden jab in the side (which nearly makes you squeal like a little piglet- you’re ticklish) snaps you out of your musings on Dave’s psyche. You turn and glare at him, who remains distinctly unintimidated by your angry expression.

“What?” you snap.

“I said, y’all can wait in there,” Dave answers, speaking slowly like you’re an idiot, nodding towards the living room. “I’ll be there in a sec, or however much you measure time in terms of Coke-getting skills, which is hella important for being a good host.”

“Fine,” you shrug, not having the energy to ask Dave why he couldn’t have just left it at ‘be there in a sec’. 

Of course, little do you know that Dave is stalling, giving himself a moment to stick his head in the fridge to try and cool down a little. The last thing he had expected was for you to turn up at his front door, looking as irritated with the world as usual, but there nonetheless. Then again, you seemed to have a strange penchant for doing exactly the opposite of what Dave expects you to do, which you proved that day in the library.

You head into the living room, weaving your way around variously coloured puppets scattered on the floor. You feel slightly calmer being away from Dave, though you do allow yourself to glance over your shoulder and watch his sexy, sexy retreating back. You suppose there is some comfort in slipping back into your old routine of snapping at Dave while he shrugs it all off. As you perch awkwardly on the sofa, it occurs to you it’s one of the reasons you like Dave- you don’t have to put on an act for him. You feel free to act exactly how you feel without wasting time bullshitting. Sure, you play up your moody side to cover up your obvious feelings, but your bad-tempered personality is still very much a part of you, even if you choose to exaggerate it at times. Guys are always telling girls what they want them to be- “Smile more!” “You should wear more makeup.” “I don’t like girls with short hair.” Blah, blah, blah. Dave doesn’t do that. Dave takes you in Stride.

You groan out loud at the pun, sinking back against the cushions and dragging a hand through your hair, noting that you’re still sweaty.

What are you doing here?

~

Returning from the kitchen, Dave tosses a Coke can at you, which you catch in one fluid motion, smirking slightly. You pop the cap and taking a long gulp, the chilly metal pleasant against your fingertips. Bubbles tickle your throat and you grunt, trying to dispel the itching sensation.

“So,” Dave says, plonking himself down next to you, and though he isn’t looking in your direction, his thigh presses against yours.

“Mhm?” you hum oh-so-nonchalantly, taking another swig of Coke just for something to do with your face.

Dave does look at you now, though as always, those ubiquitous shades are firmly on. You want to rip them off and toss them away- it’s highly irritating that you can’t tell what he’s thinking, especially with those sunglasses that are blocking eyes as red as the can in your hand.

“C’mon, we both know you didn’t come all this way to give me my fuckin’ homework.”

Despite the thudding in your chest, you set down the Coke and shrug nonchalantly.

“Didn’t I?”

Suddenly Dave’s hands grip your arms and pushing you down so you’re facing the ceiling- or more accurately, facing Dave, who is hovering over you.

“Goddamn it, do you have to be so fuckin’ obtuse all the time?” Dave says, and he actually sounds pretty annoyed, so you guess that’s a point for you.

“Excuse me?” you snort up at him. “What about YOU? With your stupid, constant entourage of girls and your stupid mixed messages and goddamn sunglasses that stop me seeing what you’re actually thinking?!”

You wish you could think of a slightly better insult than ‘stupid’, but having a half-naked Strider above you is a mite distracting.

“So riddle me this, oh insufferable one- if you know why I’m here, what now? Everything changed that day you came onto me in the hall and you’re the one who started it! So man the fuck up, stop hiding and tell what you want!”

The words seem to crash together as they leave your mouth, loud in the otherwise quiet room, prevented from being totally silent from the humming of electronic gizmos. You’re a little surprised, yourself – you’d been thinking it for a long time, but you’d never actually articulated your thoughts out loud before, and certainly not right to Dave’s face.

Abruptly, Dave snickers and reaches up, still leaning over you, and pulls off his shades and pinning you with his unnerving red gaze.

“You are such a pain in my ass,” he announces, accent thicker than before, which is a smooth and delicious drawl.

He leans closer and closer, until your lips are almost touching. The anticipation renders you momentarily paralyzed, and all you can do is gaze into the spheres of red.

“But what’s what I like about you,” Dave finishes, and as you’re processing this actual, honest-to-god confession, he closes the distance between you and presses Coke-flavoured lips to yours.

The result is like having a miniature jumper-cable shocking your mouth- electricity floods you, from sheer, undiluted attraction. You reach up and sink your fingers into platinum blonde hair, dragging your nails down his scalp. Dave growls into your mouth and if your lips were not wholly preoccupied you’d be smirking. A fleeting thought crosses your mind that Strider could be setting you up for some kind of elaborate trap, but you’re enjoying yourself far too much to care. Dave’s mouth leaves yours to go for your neck, nipping and biting. Your skin seems to hum wherever he touches it, his touch making you tingle. You hiss as Dave gives you a sharper bite than before, and you rake your nails down his back in response. It just figures that even now with a shirtless Strider still on top of you, you’re still thinking of sloppy makeouts in terms of moves and countermoves. You randomly think of all those girls who would die to be in this position right now, hovering around Dave and giggling at everything he does, and yet you weren’t even trying to get his attention when this whole thing started. It seems that Dave has a thing for antisocial Tsunderes.

You snicker at the thought of this, and Dave removes his mouth from your neck to look at you quizzically.

“Problem?” he asks you, almost looking slightly indignant that you have the gall to laugh when he’s trying his best to seduce you.

“It’s kind of hilarious and weird to be doing this in front of an audience of big-assed puppets,” you say, improvising, but not exactly lying. They do have the unnerving effect of seeming to follow you with their beady eyes.

“Point taken,” Dave concedes, giving the puppets a faintly disgusted look, as if mentally chastising them for killing the mood, “Let’s blow this joint.”

Your face burns at the lascivious way he says this, but soon you have other matters to contend with when the world suddenly flips upside-down as Dave moves off you and then matter-of-factly slings you over his shoulder, his hand dragging up your thigh to hold you steady before giving your ass a squeeze.

“Strider!” you screech, so attractively. “Put me down! I’ll puke Coke on you, I swear to god!”

“You really know how to set the mood, don’t you?” Dave smirks as he totally ignores your frustrated squirming and strolls to his bedroom. You’re very tempted to give him the mother of all wedgies.

“Condescending douche.” You growl.

Dave offers no verbal reply, but just casually tosses you down onto his bed. He stands at the foot of his bed as you struggle into a sitting position, standing with his head cocked. You frown.

“What?”

“Seems unfair that I’m the only one shirtless, here,” Dave remarks, eyes traveling from your face down your body. “Wouldn’t want people to assume I’m some kind of ho, would I?”

You snort, but at Dave’s insistent gaze, you slowly begin to peel off your T-shirt, feeling suddenly bashful, but you refuse to back down now. His gaze is hungry as you toss the shirt onto the floor, and you feel distinctly grateful you opted to wear one of your nicest bras.

“You’ve really got a smokin’ body, y’know.” Dave comments, walking around the bed and leaning down to kiss you, one hand reaching to massage your breasts, just the ghost of a touch at first. You fight the urge to gasp, but lean forward into his touch.

“Is that way you come up to me that day? For my body?” you snark.

“Nah. I like that you called me out on my bullshit,” Dave smirks. “The body thing is just a bonus.”

“Good to know,” you say, sarcastically, but yelp as Dave moves his mouth to your chest, tugging down your bra with his teeth.

His tongue is warm against the sensitive skin and you moan, despite yourself, toes curling and fingers flexing as he gets to work, and you note that Dave is just as good with his mouth as he is at being the Cool Kid. Does Dave have to be good at everything he sets his mind to?! (Not that you mind.) He flicks his tongue over your nipples, brushing them with his thumbs and it’s so fucking good.

“Ugh…dammit, Strider.” You choke out, leaning forward and biting down hard on his shoulder, making him both flinch and utter a throaty laugh at the same time. So he has a masochistic streak. Interesting.

He shoves his hand down the front of your jeans, unzipping them as quick as a flash, his fingers working diligently, and you begin to pant as they slip past the lace of your panties. The sensation is so overwhelming that you almost miss the smug look on his face- but not quite. You raise a foot and brush it against Dave’s crotch, smirking. He swears under his breath and you grin and do it again, pressing harder than before, and that’s not the only thing that’s hard here. He shudders as you lean forward to touch him as he touches you, your hands roving up and down his gloriously sculpted body, Dave’s hand still inside your underwear. You lean back and make a series of rather embarrassing moans and squeals, bucking your hips forwards.

Dave chuckles and tugs down your jeans, leaving you lying on his bed in basically just your underwear. You poke at his jeans with your toes, raising your eyebrows pointedly. For some reason, verbal communication suddenly seems beyond you. You feel like if you talk too much, the moment will somehow be ruined. He rolls his crimson eyes, but obligingly pulls them off, kicking them away without even looking. You marvel briefly at the sight of Dave Strider in his boxers. If you snapped a picture of this and sold it at school, you’d be a millionaire.

You don’t have time to muse over your financial situation when Dave climbs on top of you again, and you take in his glorious body with a somewhat stunned expression. Aside from being a jackass, you wonder how any one person can look so damn perfect.

“Ready for this?” he asks you, breath tickling your face.

You snort, rolling your eyes.

“I’ve been ready since that day in the library, Strider.”

Dave laughs and kisses your cheek, a surprisingly sweet gesture, all things considered.

“Good to know.”

He doesn’t waste any time after that- kissing you fervently, tongue slipping into your mouth, Dave disposes of his boxers. Not wanting to just lie there, you also eagerly squirm out of your panties, carefully dropping them at the side of the bed so you can find them again later. 

You feel Dave, inhaling so sharply you nearly make yourself cough. He gives you a second of getting used to him, but soon enough he begins to move, agonisingly slowly at first. It feels pleasant enough, but soon you buck your hips, almost growling with annoyance. Trust Dave to be as annoying in bed as he is out of it! Dave snickers and licks your neck, his tongue flicking over a particularly sensitive spot just under your jaw. 

“Strider, c’mon!” you bark, wriggling beneath him impatiently. Dave knew you wouldn’t be able to contain your natural restlessness.

“I do have a first name, y’know.” He smirks. You wonder if this has anything to do with some of your payback in the library (or the whole miniskirt thing), and Dave has picked his moment for some well-timed payback. You moan.

_“Dave!”_

He smirks.

“Fuck yeah,” He whispers, arching his back.

The room fills with the sound of pants, muffled grunts and swearing. Your back is slick with sweat and you can feel a pleasurable heat expanding in the pit of your stomach. You notice Dave’s stomach muscles clenching and unclenching and have the inexplicable urge to bite him. The rhythm you’ve fallen into makes your head pound- your mouth has dried up like a puddle in the sun, but all you can think about is this moment, of what might have happened if you chickened out and ran away.

You’re both shuddering, crying out…the tempo pounding through you is almost too much to bear, like a tidal wave. All you can do is let yourself be swept under and goddammit does it feel good. Pure pleasure rockets through your veins as Dave thrusts into you, hitting you just right, making your mouth fall open, a wordless cry leaving your lips. You grip Dave, choking out his name like it’s the last thing you might ever say, hearing him whisper your name against his skin as he, too, reaches his peak.

“Goddamn it,” you pant, collapsing into the mattress, feeling like there just isn’t enough oxygen in the room, lungs gulping each breath of warm air gratefully.

Dave laughs, lying beside you.

“You can say that again, babe.”

~

You wake up, mouth tasting kind of gross, probably due to dehydration. Despite a fan blasting continuously, it’s pretty hot in the room. Dave is draped over you like a boa constrictor, one arm sprawled over you. For a second, you’re tempted to just go back to sleep, but your eyes land on a digital clock and you swear.

“Fuck. I’ve gotta go,” you say, realising how late it is.

“Mm…” Dave grunts- you hadn’t realised he was awake-but he’s not quite willing to relinquish his new human pillow.

Annoyed, you thwack him in the arm.

“Strider. Get off before I do some considerable damage to your still-naked body.”

Dave sighs.

“Alright, alright…”

He lets go of you, and you promptly sit up and begin dressing as fast as possible, even though Dave’s pretty much seen what there is to be seen anyway. It’s the principal of the situation, really. You drag a hand through your hair, rumbled with sleep and sex. Suddenly, you feel weirdly bereft, like you’re leaving a friend you haven’t seen in a long time. You glance over your shoulder.

“So…see you at school.” You say, lamely.

“Unless I’ve perfected my invisibility serum, you will,” Dave quips, sleepily. He glances at you, red eyes unusually sincere. “Hey. Don’t look so worried, k? I won’t tell anybody about this if you don’t want. I’m not a total asshole, you know.”

“I know,” you say, which might just be the nicest thing you’ve said to Dave. You flex your fingers. “Later.”

When you slip out of the front door, looking considerably more rumpled than you did before, Dave lies in the quiet as the door slams. His sheets still smell like you, and he has no motivation to do anything but sit and think about everything. The slight creak of footsteps alert him to the sight of his brother hovering in the doorway, one eyebrow cocked.

“That her?” Dirk’s deep voice rumbles, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb.

Dave simply nods, too out of breath for anything else. Despite his attempt at keeping up a poker face, his lips quirk up in a triumphant smile.

Dirk gives him a thumbs up.

“Nice work, little man.”

~  
Going back to school after that fateful afternoon feels…weird. You feel like a whole different person, like you have a neon sign on your back, yelling out that you totally boned Strider yesterday. Nobody pays you any more attention than usual, but you feel like any moment, someone is going to suddenly figure it out, and Dave’s fangirls will tear you apart like wild dogs.

Okay, so maybe you’re overreacting a little bit.

Still, you wonder how Dave will act towards you now. Will he ignore you? Will he be embarrassed? Will he suddenly want to start dating you? You haven’t the faintest idea, really. You hope he doesn’t propose to you or kiss you in public or anything- that would be really tacky. Sighing, you put a notebook and pencil case on your desk, then start fiddling with them to make sure they’re perfectly straight. You hear the squeak of footsteps approaching, but don’t look up. Then you smell Coke.

“Hey, sugar,” Dave says, like he calls you this all the time. You nod coolly.

“Strider.”

“Maybe we should do homework again soon,” Dave says, perching on the edge of your desk. “I figure we have a lot we could teach each other.”

You smirk at the double-entendre, but shrug.

“Well, you’re pretty dumb, Strider, so we might need a lot of practice,” you say, trying not to laugh.

Dave laughs softly, and pretends to pull something from your hair, but his fingers ghost across your lips, making you want to both blush and bite him at once. But there’ll be time for that later. 

“It’s a date.” Dave promises, sliding off the desk and walking back to his seat. Several girls stare at you incredulously- did Dave Strider just ask out the angriest girl in class?

You smile innocently and open your notebook, wondering how the fanclub might react if they heard about the Smuppets.

If you really think about it, Dave’s a pretty weird guy. He’s an attention-seeker, he lives with creepy puppets, sucks at saying what he really means and has a pathological fixation on his sunglasses. And he likes you.

But maybe... that’s why you like him. You’re a pretty weird girl, yourself.


End file.
